


Love of My Life Can't You See

by lover_of_blue_roses



Series: Stockings 2019 [9]
Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Dork Lovers Server Stocking 2019 (Queen), M/M, Miscommunication, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21902953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lover_of_blue_roses/pseuds/lover_of_blue_roses
Summary: The idea of having the first words your soulmate says to you written on your body should make things easier, but what if you have really common words like 'Thanks mate' that you hear 10 tens a day.
Relationships: Brian May/Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Freddie Mercury, other 'surprise' ships
Series: Stockings 2019 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576186
Comments: 7
Kudos: 89
Collections: DL Stockings 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RDcantRead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RDcantRead/gifts).



> For RD for DLS Stockings 2019

Since the invention of writing the majority of the population had been illiterate until very, very recently. Some one percent of people never had soulmarks and that was with very conservative estimates. And it wasn't very long ago that women were little more than property to marry only whomever their father approved of. Unpleasant, arranged marriages with spouses that could be abusive or neglecting without the recourse of divorce. So it seemed little wonder then that they were considered secret, it was rude to ask and it was rude to show. 

But then there had been the 60's, the summer of love and the hippies. There was the desire by some, mostly those youngests, for no more modest, no more long heams and covered up skin. There was no more the desire to wait for marriage either for sex or soulmarks, divorce was better than staying in an unhappy marriage and best of all was to not get married at all, after all it was just an institution. There was even a trend of copying tattoos that were in odd or extremely illegible script, in a more public place that could more easily be seen. 

Perhaps some of these kids fanciful ideas were good, perhaps it was simply too much too fast but so much misery and confusion had come from that. Lying and cheating about one's soulmate in order to get another one, prettier, wealthier. 

And so as the Beatles split, Apollo 13 failed to land on the moon, Jimi Hendrix died, so too did the turning of the decades, the end of the 60's be marked by a more modest attitude towards marks. It was more common than not to have them covered. 

Everyday in class Brian saw them, those with unfortunately public soulmarks. Such as wearing a turtleneck everyday to hide one on the neck and for one very unfortunate girl would should have the choice to show hers at least, a veil that covered her face bilaterally. 

Brian doesn't need to look around though to see it, he need only look down at the glove on his hand. It's fingerless as to give him the most mobility and most of the time he doesn't mind it because it's a reminder that unlike some, he must think deeply unfortunate souls, he at least has one. 

The science isn't all there and they can't be 100% sure regardless because how do you calculate boldness or daring but soulmarks locations and sizes were generally considered to be signs of behavior. The bigger the louder, the bolder, the smaller the shyer. The hand and neck for confidence, face for oppressor, feet for oppressed, underarm and on the ribs for vulnerability and over the heart for devotion. 

No one ever says that they don't have a soulmate but one percent means if he's meant one hundred people, hell there were more than one hundred people in his grade, he must have at least met a few. But maybe that is the good news, for centuries markless -blanks- have been treated like pariahs, like the unnatural, and yet they exist unrecognizably in society. They don't stand out in anyway, there is no way to distinguish them. They live their lives the same as everyone else. 

There's another... stigma is a wrong word to use. Blanks throughout history were forced into prostitution or killed. Multips, people with multiple marks and multiple soulmates, were worshipped in some cultures, feared in others or even consider no different. Britain was rather accepting after a King James had had many and the Church had declared it a proof of his loving capability, that his love with big enough for two. 

Brian hadn't ever told anyone, not even his parents, about his multips. They made him feel so loved and lovable, warm inside, and gave him courage to always go out into the world that could be so cold and cruel.

He also hoped that with three of them, he'd be lucky enough to at least meet one of them early in his life. And he was indeed that lucky.

He and a friend, who was also a bassist and vocalist, decided to form a band and held auditions for their missing drummer. They advertised for a Ginger Baker/ Mitch Mitchell type and soon they got a call from someone on behalf of their friend. They picked a date and a place and the rest is history.

-

Roger showed up a mere five minutes late to where an audition was being hosted. They were doing it in one of Imperial's hosting rooms which was convenient because then he didn't have to haul his drum kit through the busy packed streets nor on the bus. 

Roger had one soulmark that said 'do you know where the auditions are' shyly written in a tight, tiny script tucked up behind his knee. It seemed a rather shy and introverted soul must have left that one like that and it was his only hint, the others being vague. 

So Roger had had a great interest in a life that involved auditions, he had tried theatre, a job as an usher, which he found unbearable and then had tried music which was truly what his soul longed for. Even if he never found his soulmate through this, he wanted to do it for the rest of his life. Rock and roll was like fire in his blood, roaring in his veins.

When Roger arrived to the dim room it was to see a halo of hair waiting in one of the seats, writing in a journal. He was tempted to call out with his own soulmark just as an inside joke but there was no actual question seeing a poor and abused looking kit setup.

Roger knocked as he entered and the student waved him over. He looked kind, in no way angry or frustrated with Roger's tardiness. He was tall and lanky with badly straightened hair that made him look like he had straight hair and had tried to use a curling iron to give himself an afro. 

Roger shook his leather jacket from the light drizzle as he considered taking it off, it was a little too warm to play with it on. Yet he wanted to make a good, appropriately, rock-and-roll first impression. He had to fight hard against his soft, baby face and this was best accomplished by projecting a tough attitude, "Ready for me to fuck some shit up?" 

The student looked at him blankly and Roger could feel sweat run down his nape, two seconds in and he'd fucked up. They seemed to restart answering in a quiet voice, "Yeah, go for it, that's why you're here."

Roger looked up from where he'd settled down behind the drums, one hand on a lug and a drumstick in the other. It was a good thing he didn't have a cigarette in his mouth for he would have surely dropped it from how his jaw hung open. 

Brian chuckled as Roger's reaction meant they in fact did have matching words. "You know, I didn't think that'd be the context in which those were said."

"Pleasantly surprised?" Roger questions quietly looking at the rather bookish student, who fortunately nodded. "I-" best to be honest right from the get go, "I don't mean to offend you, I just want you to know," Roger could see like shutters going down over Brian's soul, snuffing out the light in his eyes. He must think that Roger is going to claim to be one of the people that don't believe in their soulmates or is already in a previous relationship and refuses to try and be with them, but hopefully this news won't be that bad, "I have other soulmates, I'm a multip."

"Oh," Brian slumps in his seat with relief, "I-Yeah, me too."

Roger perks up, abandoning the drum kit as he stands up, "Do you think the handwriting matches? I have two others," How terrible would it be if they were both multips with no overlapping? Roger didn't even know if such a thing existed but he couldn't imagine having to share his soulmate's affections with those whom would never be affectionate towards him. He was far too possessive of what was his. 

"Yeah I have three too," Brian said as he went for a brace on his hand- ah a soulmark covering glove and underneath in large blocky font was the very words Roger had ushered. 

"When my sister hears my soul was so bold as to be on a hand..."

"I should just consider myself lucky it wasn't on my neck or face, that's would be more inconvenient to hide."

Roger would like to deny that he's not that bad but he looks at his two swear words on this man's forearm. It's written so big it goes up to his elbow, maybe he does need to tone it down a little. "I can try a little."

Brian shrugs unbothered, this is his soul's perfect match, what good would they be if they were to change themselves, "Just when needed, in front of fancy company, my parents-"

"Got fancy parents?" Roger teased.

Brian playfully shoved him, "Only compare to your behavior." He replaces his glove and thinks of his easiest mark to show, on the back of his calf going up. Pull down his sock and up his trousers and Roger will be able to see it, he has his fingers on the fabric but hesitates. It's so private. He doesn't even know if his parents are soulmates, what if theirs aren't matching. He swallows audible.

Roger places a comforting hand on his shoulder, "You don't have to show me, not now, not ever."

"Aren't soulmates supposed to share everything?"

"Well, I don't know about everything. If you ever catch the flu, you can keep your germs to yourself," Again Roger teases, it's clear he's playful and a jokester. 

Brian swats at him, "Don't you have a band audition to do?"

"What?! I haven't gotten the job?"

"Nepotism is a poor way to get anywhere," Brian answers in his best RP accent. 

Roger sticks his tongue out but gets to it, he doesn't have to worry, he knows he's a great drummer and honestly Brian should be lucky his soulmark isn't just on his face saying, 'I'm tuning my drums dipshit, what's it look like.'


	2. Chapter 2

Freddie had always loved his soulmates without ever meeting them. Their love as these words on his skin that meant he was never going to be alone, there was always going to be someone out there that was going to love him for him. And he considered himself rather lucky to be able to read the English of all these sentences.

He had three which meant he was three times blessed. As much as he liked that much love and how the other boys reacted to the rumor of him being a multip, hard to hide in a boarding school with shared dormitories, he hated what it meant for blanks. He wanted to be loved and respected but not at the expense of others. 

Boarding school made for an interesting culture. There was the outside stigma about showing them to each other, at least well enough that they could be read but there was pride in having them and 'showing' them off. Generally by the present of soulmark covers, which were only needed when their uniforms weren't enough. So they proudly wore gloves and wrist covers as though they were bracelets and rings. 

While during all classes they were expected to be full uniform with their starch collars and ties, they wore open collared t-shirts for recreations and sleeping. This meant Freddie could show off the mark cover that hid the very tidy script at the very base of his neck like a font necklace.

He had another that went from his collarbone to under his arm as though a cat snuggled above his heart. And his last one perfectly parallel to his heart on the other side, on his right lung. To have them all so close to him and his heart made him feel very loved indeed compared to those that had them so far as their ankles or wrists.

The difficulty no one spoke of about marks was when they weren't were one could see them easily. It made them hard to read and of course a mirror only reversed the letters. While it was not done to ask someone else to read them to you, one could look in the mirror and try to decode what they said. Either by looking at the letter and reversing them in your mind or by copying them down and showing that writing to the mirror. Freddie, of course being Freddie, and a little too young to be that much of a clever or logical thinker, instead traced his over with ink and then pressed blank paper to them to transfer the words.

He'd been looking forward to meeting them all his life although he didn't have any clues or hints in his general, vague words.

\--  
Freddie had been in London for a bit drinking at a pub with some classmates as they listened and danced to the band. The music here was all hard rock and roll and Freddie loved it so much. The band weren't as talented as professional ones but they had so much potential, what a hot, dynamic sound they had. God, did he really want some of that.

The band does their last number and Freddie finishes his drink, primping in the bar's mirror, undoing a few more buttons of his shirt and mussing his hair before going to find them backstage. He was today, as he does all days, wearing something fabulously stunning which he hopes will make a striking impression. 

The first he finds is the guitarist awkwardly pinned at the bar trying to bring more beers back. This wasn't nearly their first round of the night, that much Freddie was certain by how they'd come to the stage and what they'd drank during their gig. 

He looks shy and uncertain now that he was no longer on the stage, as though only his talent and music gave him courage. "I thought you were quite good," Freddie tried to start up a conversation.

The guitarist nods bobbing his chaotic sphere of hair, "have heard that before," despite his confident words, he shyly avoided Freddie's eyes and sips aggressively at his beer. 

What a fascinating duopoly. Freddie looks at him carefully, not just because he's beautiful but because that phrase is over his right lung but it's clear the guitarist doesn't recognize anything. He tries to catch his eyes that look like a light brown in the dim pub lighting. 

Freddie continues trying to ingratiate himself by paying for that round. The guitarist tries to scuttle away but Freddie pushes and presses to follow, asking him questions about the band, how long have they been together, do they want someone on keyboard, what about singing, where is their next gig-

He's not blind, he can tell he's making him uncomfortable, but he also knows that much like a pushy salesman this will get results which is what he really cares about. 

The drummer, a blond beauty, with a friend are waddling part of the drum kit through the backdoor. Freddie's not sure how much of the wobbling comes from the booze and how much from cumbersome instrument. "Oh here let me get that for you," Freddie jumped to offer, opening the door.

"Thanks mate," the drummer answered casually as he staggered into the crisp night air. 

Freddie's heart clenches. Two in one night. Freddie would like to say that's odd, or unusual or even a sign, but he's heard 'thanks mate' surely a thousand times since arriving to London for his higher studies. Hell, he might have already met them. He tried to always retort in a distinct and memorable manner but no one has yet to react.

He follows out to the van and chats them up all night. At least the lead singer and bassist, doesn't say his last soulmark. They are interesting blokes that have nearly as much as Freddie to say about music. So they chat, bicker, laugh, and most of all drink, late into the night. 

Freddie is little more than a smear on the van floor the next day but what little he remembers of last night, assures him it was all worth it.

\--  
He didn't convince them that night nor even that month to join the band but he and Roger remained friends that constantly hang out. They even get a clothing stall at Kensington as a job to pad their pockets. It's not particularly lucrative but they are their own bosses and set their own hours, which is unspeakably convient. 

Roger becomes his new best friend now that boarding school has scattered anyone he has ever known into the four winds. And possible the best friend Freddie has ever had. Roger is so much more than a pretty face, he's just so passionate, gung-ho, cock-sure, funny, clever, ambitious and on and on go his strength.

It's not a surprise that Freddie falls in love with him then. And he always wonders and hopes that Roger might be his soulmate but as comforting as the thought might be, apparently it's not the case. Which does lead to the question, if these feelings Freddie has are not soulmate-love how can anything be stronger, how can any be deeper or more heartfelt. Still Freddie is happy for his friend to have already found his soulmate, with whom he is disgustingly happy with. 

His name is Brian and he's the band's guitarist. They don't spend that much time together but it's hard for Freddie not to love him too. Firstly because if allowed, Roger will gush continuously about him and his virtues. Secondly because Brian is simply that good. A good soul, a caring, kind heart, but also passionate and determined for both his music and his studies. Truly the perfect target for Freddie to crush on. But surely that's all it is, a crush.

\--  
Despite remaining only as friends, they continue to be in each others lives. Staffell sees a lifeboat in the shape of Humpybong and desperately abandons them after the failure that is their Earth album. 

Brian and Roger are left heartbroken but Freddie sees an opportunity, the opportunity he's always wanted, to be in their band. Thus Queen is born in all her royal glory and auditions are held for a bassist. 

They hold them in a similar room of imperial to where Brian and Roger met all those years ago. Roger is -shockingly- late and so they hold the first three auditions without him. Freddie tries to pay attention but they're all so mediocre that it barely takes up any of his mind and thus he instead focuses on the calming, repetitive motion of Brian's hair bobbing in the slight breeze caused by the open window. 

As steady as the tide the recesses and returns, it lulls Freddie under that he barely hears the next hopeful bassist's strange accent, "Do you know where the auditions are?" 

Roger sighs so audibly Freddie can hear it from where he's seated inside and Brian flinches, what on earth? "Right here," Roger retorts almost angrily as he stomps inside and gives Brian an intensely passionate kiss. Freddie blinks in confusion at the bassist that seems shy at their drummer's angry behavior.

Well, then. While Freddie would rather Roger wasn't a dick, it has at least revealed this bassist's weakness. They don't need a shrinking violet in their band full of such loud and hard-headed people, for surely they'll become completely bulldozed. They aren't dress like a rocker, they look like any ordinary student in simple jeans and shirt with a soulmark covering his neck.

Freddie can't be sure if they aren't looking at him because they are looking at how to set up or shy. It is at least the former, not excluding the ladder, because once a suitable outlet is found it takes the bassist, who has also brought his own amp about 10 seconds to set up. He then does two perfectly passable, if forgettable songs. Once done he looks at Brian as though daring him to insult him. Another one of Roger's exes then? This would be easier if their darling drummer hadn't fuck so much of the musical scene, although this one looks a little young with his smooth face and luscious hair. 

Brian and Roger are sitting in a tangle of limbs but Brian does at least appear to be paying attention unlike his sulking soulmate. "Good job," Brian says without much sincerity, apparently he feels as lukewarm as Freddie does about that performance. 

"I try," he answers back just as drily. 

Freddie can see this going nowhere good fast and so claps his hands and bounces in his seat as though genuinely excited, "Yes, yes, thank you so much for coming. That's well done." He doesn't know what he's going to say, anything to make things less awkward so he pounces on the first thing he sees. "I do have a question though, that amp, it looks- did you modify it?" 

The bassist looks stunned, his brow puckering, in confusion or possible hurt, which can't be blamed on Freddie seeing how weird that amp is. But then he grins sweetly, apparently appropriately proud of his work, showing off an adorable tiny gap between his two front teeth. "Yes, with lots of tender love and care." 

"Oh!" Freddie gasps audibly. He touches right over his heart where the words lie and the bassist's smile only grows larger. Deaky -please there must be a thousand Johns in London alone- isn't afraid of anything, and clearly bold and proud in his love as scrunches down his mark cover, right in front of Roger and Brian, to show that lengthy sentence coiled possessively around his neck and tucked up lovingly behind his ear. 

Freddie jumps up to kiss the darling man, squishing his bass uncomfortable between the two of them. Freddie is so endlessly happy, all his romantic daydreams and fantasies come true. He doesn't even think about it until late in the dark of their newly-shared bedroom that with one down, only two more to go.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3  
There was no real way for Freddie to be intimate with someone and for them not to know of his soulmarks. Freddie didn't want to have to hide in his own home with his own soulmate and so he, as he overcame his shy nature every gig to go out on stage and woah the audience, showed Deaky that he was a multip.

Deaky also went without his soulmark covering in their flat, wearing it like the most elegant of scarfs of Freddie's chatting tendencies. It was good that John didn't think this was a sign of Freddie being too controlling or terrible. In fact Deaky found it rather a good omen that Freddie was bold enough to be a rockstar. 

When it was late at night and they were wrapped up in bed Freddie would often find himself tracing the words and especially the 'did you modify it.' One night he spoke of it, "I'm so happy I edited my language, I was trying not to say something that was accidently insulting," for once in his life he had corrected himself and it could never have mattered more. "I am aware of what it looked like, broken and fucked up," John replied calmly. "I'm happy my first words aren't that mean though," Freddie mumbled. 

Deaky picked up Freddie's finger and lifted it higher on his neck, without needing to look in a mirror until he was tracing 'that's well done,' "Funnily enough, I don't doubt my soulmate loves me," And he looked at him with his brown doe eyes and Freddie did indeed love him without doubt. 

The singer did sometimes wonder, like something restless lurking under still water, that maybe Roger and Brian were his missing soulmates. John was a multip too but only had one other soulmark. 'Right here,' which was unfortunately a phrase that Deaky had now heard a hundred times in any and every context imaginable. Some days when Freddie felt homesick for a love he never knew, he imagined the writing looked like Roger's. 

This other mark was written over the soft of his tummy, almost right in the middle. Most soulmarks, because most of the human body was bilateral, were on one side or another, but this one was dead in the center. John’s two were central, one on his neck and under his ribs, which was very statistically unlikely. Wives' tales said it was for people that were everything to their soulmate rather than complimentary. 

Freddie was alright with the current status quo, more than ever as he now had one of his soulmates to share his days with. Although he didn't have a relationship beyond friendship with Smile 2.0, the time they spent as a band would have to be enough, even if deep down some days Freddie doubted. He would see the twinkle in Roger's smiling eyes as he laughed at Freddie's joke or he would feel the smooth cadence of Brian’s voice as he explained passionately the laws that governed the universe, and Freddie's soul would ache for more. 

That would have to be enough and oh, boy was it ever. They went from boys trying to play in their off-time to a full-time job. They went from knowing each other as friends to living in each other's pockets, touring, and heads and tailings in tiny beds. It got to the point where Freddie had known more of his band members than any one in his life, beyond any other friend, any family member. 

It was probably a good thing they were paired up then as they surely would have seen more of each other than of any wife left at home. They also enjoyed perks from their record label for being bonded to their bandmates because their marks served like insurance, a guarantee that they wouldn't break the band up easily. 

\--  
Freddie didn't want to, oh how he'd bite his lip and dig his feet in the ground, but in the end it was wrong to keep this from John. He was so afraid of how it might ruin everything and yet to hide something so big, such a big part of himself, Freddie couldn't bare to do that to his plucky soulmate that had bared his mark in front of strangers because he was so similarly delighted to have met his soulmate. 

And so, one night when it is so late as to be early morning Freddie crawls into bed beside Deaky and whispers quietly into his loves back the truth he sometimes delights in and often dreads; that Brian and Roger might be his other soulmates. Brian had been so drunk that night as to overcome the fears of performing for the first time in front of such a large crowd while Roger had been distracted, not paying Freddie or his words anymind.

But rather than sorrow or heartache that Freddie would think this Deaky is thrilled at the idea. While he has loved having Freddie, having all of Freddie all to himself is sometimes much. It is not that Freddie is a burden and that their other soulmate must lighten this load, it is that there is so much of Freddie to love that Deaky alone can not do it. 

Deaky thinks the way people hide their soulmarks at any cost to be a little silly and he goes without his soulmark cover in almost all circumstances. Despite his shyness, he is willing to go out there on the stage, neck bared and dance his heart out. Because in his own words, 'What is there to hide? That I am loved? That I have found the one that loves me so?' 

It so bold and daring and Freddie would love to do that too. He already screams his love for Deaky from the rooftops. He'd bare his chest for the world to see, and what a lovely chest he has if he does say so himself, if there were not two others to take into consideration and what they might want.


	4. Chapter 4

So Queen goes on. Deaky decides, as he is no longer a budding teen, that he wants to cut his hair, which is fine, Freddie suspects that he will love John be he bald or blonde (although preferable not green). 

He also decides, with the same unwavering certainty and yet bone-deep casualness of changing his hair style, that he is determined to see if this is the truth of it; that Brian and Roger could be his soulmate's soulmate. The first words cannot be resaid, as lovely as Deaky's van is it can not travel through time, but their electrical engineer seeks a more attainable answer; their handwriting. 

He hadn't really paid much attention to it before, except that Roger's bewildering song lyrics were legible while Brian's hand was truly worthy of a doctorate. But he carefully snoops for more than just lyric sheets written, on buses, paper napkins and whenever the lightning struck. 

Letters and Christmas cards penned in their best hand, their personal notes that are not meant to be legible to others, normal correspondances, how they write when feeling cute or enraged. Enough samples that he feels that he's being unbiased. He carefully, oh so carefully copies Freddie's marks, with his permission of course. They use masking tape and baking parchment to trace them first off his skin and then onto paper. 

Deaky discreetly, and possibly with a lot of omissions and outright lies that these might come from a fan that spoke to them only the most extreme of passing rather than the singer that has lived and toured with them for now half a decade, enquire with the roadies and managers if they think these two handwritings match. The answer for Roger's tidy script is a clear yes but there is much debate over Brian's scrawl. 

Well, Deaky thinks, that surely if he has confirmed Roger's, he can at least confess to one of them and then he'll be in a perfect position to ask Brian. However there is one thing Deaky didn't count on, the only thing Freddie is more than a pussy is stubborn, and so apparently like the wimpy coward he is, he refuses to tell Roger. Because it could ruin their friendship, or the band, or maybe Roger rejected him because he doesn't want his multips, or just Freddie in general, or maybe the stars aren't aligned and the sky will fall. 

Deaky would rather not break his soulmate's trust nor get into a fight about this matter which is why it's good there is Crystal, Roger's new roadie, who doesn't give a shit about respecting his chain of command and is perfectly willing to stick it to his new boss. God bless. 

And Crystal, the subtle discreet man, does this by taking the original tracings done on the baking parchment and shoving them under Roger's nose with a, "You're soulmate found you, would like to confirm that you just don't know rather than aren't interested."

Roger is shocked as he rubs his shirt over the top of his solar plexus. "I-I," He seems to be lost staring at the page for a moment and Freddie is nearly bursting in his skin, he can't just stand here and watch, he wants more than anything to runaway and hide in his wardrobe but John's hand is like an anchor on his shoulder. 

His eyes scan over the words. "They opened the door for me, that's why they said this. I don't- I don't even remember saying this in return, I don't remember- Tim got us so drunk, it was Brian's first time with a crowd that big- so we all got smashed beforehand- a little liquid courage," Roger is literally tearing him up. It's crazy that he can remember what must surely have been a rather uneventful night amongst the thousand he's had since then. And yet of course he's crying because despite remembering that tiny interaction he lost his soulmate to the crowd and the booze.

Freddie is rooted to the spot as he watches on and unless John's hands insistently force him out, he doesn't think he can move. And John is more than willing to give his soulmate any encouragement he needs but first-

With this confirmation Crystal turns his attention to the gawking Brian whom he tugs down to their level by the ear, "They're a multip and they think you might be the other one actually, but you're handwriting is so shitty they aren't sure." He shows them Deaky's tracing. 

Recognition flashes in Brian's eyes, like with Roger he must be remembering what should have by all rights been a completely forgettable exchange half a dozen year ago but then- "That was Fred." He looks up and around until his eyes land on the singer, "That was the night we meet Freddie." Roger too looks at him but not just startled, if John isn't mistaken there is love too in his eyes. How fortunate to find one's soulmate in their best friend. So now John shoves and pushes Freddie forward, Crystal doing the same on his end.

Freddie is stiff and unmoving but as soon as Roger is pushed a step forward he runs to wrap Freddie up in a tight hug and pepper his face with soft butterfly kisses. Freddie laughs loudly and freely. Brian is more restrained and yet no less loving. John watches on, present but apart as Crystal leaves them to the privacy of this backstage changing room. They look so happy but where does John fit into all of this. 

Brian and Roger speak over each other, jumbling their words but it's understood that they've always known they were multips and had hoped to have the same partners as the marks appeared to be in the same font. It had taken them months of dating to be comfortable enough to show their other marks to each other as they grew more familiar with each other as well as the sheer necessity of showing skin as they bedded and lied together. 

And now they have been bandmates for many years and so in this private of places as Freddie is unafraid to show his chest where all his mark lives, so if Roger and Brian. "First a hand, now a neck, I think I'm starting to get the idea your trouble Taylor," Brian jokes as Roger admires his words in his hand like dark jewels at the base of Freddie's neck. 

John politely averts his eyes. With them being his soulmate's soulmates it's probably only a matter of time before he sees them all, especially the obvious one on Brian's hand. Since that one's been Roger, a fact they've never hidden, John has never understood why he's insisted on hiding it especially when the mark cover got in the way of his guitar licks. 

"I've had this thought," Freddie says in that same troublesome tone he says before he pulls out a newly adopted kitten from his pocket, seriously even with their newly purchased huge house, that's too many cats. And Freddie bats his eyes to John, "Darling could you come over here."

John has a terrible feeling in his gut which is not helped by the first thing Freddie doing is untucking his shirt and running his hands over his hips. "All this look at Roger's handwriting got me thinking." His hand is false casually rubbing over the mark on John's stomach.

"What the fuck," honestly replies the bassist but now that he thinks about it while Freddie has a rather showy version of Roger’s font, his other soulmark does look like Roger's more sloppy casual dashing off a quick note style. John doesn't just lift his shirt, he pulls it off completely, leaving himself bare chested, and flicks the offending garment across the room.

"Dude, what the fuck-" Roger is just as shocked. His eyes are wide and he looks like he really needs a drink. To find not one but two soulmates and they are both his bandmates, poor drummer boy. It's not clear if he recognizes his words or his handwriting but there's no doubt on his face. He looks at Deaky apologetically, "So many people have ended up saying it to me over the years, I was already pissed about getting caught out in the rain and being late, I'm so sorry." 

'Right here' was hardly an offense. "No worries, I didn't recognize yours either."

"Yeah but I imagine yours is proper common." Deaky looked down sadly, that was very true, how many times had he had his hopes crushed as a child as countless people said those two simple words. Roger however is concerned with something else, he darts a sideways look at Brian that is looking at them happily if not still a little shocked as he clings to Freddie from behind. "What about Brian?" 

"What about him?" Freddie asks but John has understood.

"I only have two, I'm a multip with only two," John says quietly, almost ashamed. He doesn't feel like he has anything personally against Brian, he's always liked him well enough but perhaps things are not meant to be. He doesn't understand why they have three marks, three marks of each other!, and he's the odd one out. Did he just join too late? Is he not talented enough or outgoing? Is he not a real rockstar like them that want this life of fame and music in their bones?

"Oh!" Freddie exclaims as he forces the four of them into a group hug with John trapped in the middle. "I promise we won't ever love you any less." 

Brian looks a little hurt, which is understandable, John himself is a little hurt. 

"No that can't be right!" Roger argues. "Brian has three marks. The last one has gotta be John's and John just - lost his mark or something." People have lost their marks, be it terrible scarring or amputation of some kind and most recently and concerningly, plastic surgery. There was an unspeakable scandal when it was rumored that Liberace had his soulmark, which was along his bicep, redone in a more feminine looking script. 

"Lost? Nothing like that has happened to me," John has been fortunate enough to go through his life without anything that drastic. Brian almost did though, when the gangreen threatened to take his arm, his career, and the proof of Roger's love, at least at that point they'd met each other. 

"John's mark is behind my knee and Brian has one that could be in the same hand on the back of his calf, think about how similar that is." 

"Soulmarks of multips aren't always in the same spot, hell look at us three," Brian argues. His eyes are shifty and he looks nervous, as though he is afraid to dream, to dare to hope. And it would be crushing and yet how can they not talk about it when not talking about it has left them without some of their soulmates for years.

Passions are riding so high that Freddie, as their peacekeeper both in and out of the studio, decides that they can discover this matter later. And so they go out for lunch, an activity they have done as a quartet surely a thousand times before but this time instead of two couples double dating or four friends, they must shift their world views to their new partners. 

It's a little awkward at first, stilled silences as they don't know how to interact with each other but Freddie's cheer is such a force of nature that they all just figure it out. Roger is a giant flirt and so he and Freddie, unsurprisingly, get along like a house on fire. Roger and John's flirting is a little more subdued but as the two youngest they've always been close. 

Freddie has long admired Brian for his remarkable talent and unique sound so it's easy for him to gush. At first Brian is blushing and unable to deal with these compliments until he turns them on Freddie, who both loves to receive compliments and is actually rather shy to get them from someone that knows and cares for him so much. 

Things are a little extra awkward between Deaky and Brian but Deaky tries to be as open minded as he can, as he has always been about soulmates and love. Even if they are not soulmates, or that somehow Brian has Deaky's mark without the reverse being true, they'll be spending a lot of time together. Not just as band members but as people with mutual soulmates, it's best they make the most of it. And Deaky delights in teasing Brian who is both soft-spoken and extremely defensive and prideful.


	5. Chapter 5

It doesn't take long for them to fall into bed together, although it's not the player Roger with the equally flirty Freddie. No instead Roger comes onto Deaky because their drummer is concerned he is leaving out their youngest. So he overcompensates by snogging him senseless on their couch. Brian politely offers them some space but Freddie just laughs at this and gives their guitarist an equally passionate kiss.

If it was only Roger there Deaky might spend all his time and energy thinking about him but as there are the other two in the room he darts looks at them from the corner of his eyes. He doesn't know what's hotter, them looking at him while Roger ravishes him or them snogging so insensitive, wrapped up in each other. 

Brian might technically not be his reciprocal soulmate but John still gets hot and bothered to watch the man so normally put together slowly lose it and turn feral on Freddie. As much as Deaky has loved Freddie all these years, and will love him so many more, there is something so indescribably hot about watching him with another man. 

They learn each other like lovers do and they eventually all end up squeezed on Freddie's large Queen size bed. Freddie is unconscious after giving it all he got but even in sleep his content smile stays. Brian is drifting as he speaks sweet poetry and words of love to John. John isn't one for such sappy, romantic gestures but he does understand that Brian is trying his best to compensate. 

Now that they've all gotten to their birthday suits, John can confirm that the script on the back of Brian's calf looks like his handwriting and Brian tells him that 'I try' while something he heard a thousand times was definitely what John first said to him. John is touched and yet also crushed that it's pair has not appeared on his skin. 

He only has tiny scars from childhood misadventures but surely nothing big enough to hide whatever Brian first said to him unless the man's mark is to be the tiniest ever recorded. 

Roger is drowsy, tossing and turning, not yet fully asleep, accidentally kicking Deaky in the shins. The first order of business will be to find or have custom made a mattress big enough for all four of them without being squished like sardines. Brian tries to pull Deaky closer while Freddie lies between them, dead to the world. "Sorry about that, Roger's been extra restless since he cut his hair, says it feels weird."

John rubs his nape, "Yeah it's been an odd adjustment period," Brian, despite having now seen them all in the throws of climax, blushes at having missed the obvious. For once Deaky doesn't tease his lanky bandmate, probably because he's warm and satiated from the orgasms. 

"It's weird because when it was growing out I didn't really notice it the same way 'cause it was progressive, but now that it's all gone I definitely notice it." He scrubs a hand through his hair hard, "And now that it's so light, my scalp is rather itchy all the time."

Brian chuckled softly and without malice as he threads his fingers into John's shorn locks and firm yet gently massaged. John sighed into it like a cat and melted to get even closer, rolling over so that Brian could more easily access it from the back. Even in his sleep Freddie reached out and wrapped him up into an embrace, curling an arm around his chest. Brian chuckled at this possessive behavior but John wasn't surprised at his long-time soulmate's behavior.

John melted under Brian's touch as he focused on what was before him. Over their years of touring he'd seen Roger asleep but never like this, in the comfort of a bed. Despite it now being near the dead of night, London remained a big city and the world outside was alight with street lamps and shop signs. From the window it backlight Roger's bleached hair to give him a halo. Which was delightfully funny as no one could be less deserving of it. Not that Roger kicked puppies or stole from babies kind of evil, but that he thrilled in mischief and bucking authority. 

"So when are you going to cut your hair?" Deaky joked lightly. Brian's hands had moved from deep lines across the top of his head to the hollow right under his ears now that Deaky has his back facing him and it was amazing. As though all of Deaky's stress and worry was being pulled out him in slow pulls, yet he was still enough of a little shit to tease their curly haired Isaac Newton looking lover.

Brian retaliated by tugging at the hair, "Me cut my hair? Don't be ridiculous, I was born like this- Oh John do you have a mole here?" Brian had found under a tugged looks a dark spot that he ran over with his finger, it seemed smoothed and the hair grew there uninterrupted. 

"I don't know- maybe it's a birthmark," John replied sleepily, how was he to know what he had under his hair.

Brian jacked up like a switchblade and looked wide awake all of a sudden. He flicked the lamp on much to Roger's displeasure. "Argh, fuckers." Freddie only stirred when Brian half crushed him by pulling John closer to him. "Ah-what darlings? What's happened? Did someone fall off the bed?"

Brian manhandled John's head tilting it to the light, blowing his hair out of the way and petting it down against the grain. "Is that-?" Freddie ask as Brian uncovers a 'Good job.' curling horizontal from ear to ear. 

It's quiet, even Roger is staring. John struggles weakly, "Wha-"

"A soulmark. My soulmark," Brian whispers into the night.

"And here I thought our band couldn't get an more fuckin' wild. The press are going to lose their minds, hell the fans too."

"You know what this means," Freddie perks up, looking wide awake and John gets ready for another spiel about love and that other goopy romantic crap that Brian loves, "I can go shirtless on stage."

Deaky can do nothing but laugh, he can't believe this lot are really his soulmates and gets to keep them for the rest of his life.


End file.
